flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

July 28, 2014

My Dog, the Nut

My dog is nuts. He wants to play ball or frisbee ALL THE TIME. Yes, he's a Border Collie.

I think they're all nuts.
But he's so sweet, such a nice little thing. Doesn't bark (unless he wants to play ball and you don't... err....), doesn't run away, doesn't jump on people, and is house trained.

Or so I thought.

You see, we have a basketball net at the end of our yard, on the street. It's kid bait. Most of the kids on our side of the block, at one point or another in the week, come over to shoot hoops. Sometimes with my kids, sometimes without. It's all good.

But not for Loki the Dog.

See, they're all playing ball. Yes, it's a really big ball that he can't catch. Could probably get really hurt if he played with them. But it DOESN'T MATTER. They're Playing Ball. Without Him!!

No matter that this has been happening for the better part of 2 years now, he still, as my husband says so eloquently, "loses his shit:" every time kids are ballin, he's bawling.

Cut to yesterday. I chased him out of our side room - we used to have a useless garage; we turned it into a suite for my mom when she stayed with us. Now John mostly uses it, in his big-honking chair next to the windows he reads the internets. The windows look over our driveway, toward the street court. I got home from my Long March of the day and wanted to sit and play video games there. It's a comfy chair! Loki was in there - I usually don't let him be in there because his hair stands out even worse in there than in the rest of the house. AND he'd been in John's chair. Sheesh.

So I sit down, and I notice a wet spot on the arm of John's chair. The chair Loki had been sitting in. And the wet spot on the carpet, next to the window. Great. Now, he's peed in the house.

Benefit of the doubt, I call John in. Were  you drinking in here, and your glass either condensed on or spilled on the chair and floor? No, he says. And he looks at the chair arm in disgust. Then Loki comes into the room and stands at the window, crying.

While I'm down sniffing at the stain, figuring out it's NOT pee, Loki's going nuts at the window - and drooling on the spot on the floor at his feet. The boys playing ball got him so excited, he DROOLED enough to leave big marks on the floor and the chair.

Now, that's what I call obsession.

He's a good dog, truly. But don't get between him and spherical objects. The results aren't pretty.